


A Tribute of Cats

by 5ofSpades



Series: TFA short fills [11]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cat Courier Troopers, Cats, Community: tfa_kink, Crack, Emperor Hux, Fearsome Emperor Hux, Happily Evil Ever After, House with a White Picket Fence, M/M, Matt is Shredded, Mitaka the Darkside Cinnamon Roll, Papa Hux, The Empire Did Nothing Wrong, Tuna - Freeform, even more cats, married hux, more cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ofSpades/pseuds/5ofSpades
Summary: Prompt:Hux's red hair is now mixed with grays. Hux's brow is now heavy with a crown. Hux's lap is now occupied by his Knight instead of his beloved cat.Millicent was faithful. Millicent was orange. Millicent was fluffy. Millicent contributed generously to Kylo Ren's allergies. Millicent was old and gone.Somehow various planetary government heads and diplomats got into their heads that the Emperor is missing his beloved pet cat.Cue a sudden influx of cats of all sorts, gifts to the Emperor.--Self Fill: As Prompted





	

The Felis catus, a strange, willful, proud, and independent beast. Quick breeders. Efficient predators. Conservationists cried for native species put down by their swift claws. Yet very few could deny their beauty and grace, and many welcomed these small predators into their homes, onto their laps, and from there, their hearts.

Some legends say the cats were giant predators from the wild, shrunken by the force of necessity and survival. Other say they were little gods, spun from sun rays and twisted forth by shadows. Yet more old wives’ tales by alien savages say they came with the humans, superior species both, spreading prosperously across this far, far away corner of the galaxy. The savages then went on to claim that our fair native planets were once not our own. Such bold faced lies and heresy! But these are simply legends, superstitions, and old wives’ tales, nothing worth paying attention to at all, save for in passing entertainment, and not why we are talking about cats today at all. 

No, dear friends, today we talk of cats, because cats are, as of this moment, the talk of the New Empire.

Why you ask? Why, because our poor dear beloved Emperor has suffered a recent and terrible loss. His most cherished lady, his best faithful companion, has recently passed away. No, not our valiant Empress Phasma, who is still very much hale and healthy, and leading the mapping corps as we speak, onto far flung frontiers and beyond. Nor their daughter, our dear Imperial Princess, who is no doubt hard at work in the Junior Imperial Academy. The lady who has passed was none other than our Lady Millicent, First Mouser of the First Order. Peacefully in her sleep, according to the Imperial Princess herself.

And we too, as good citizens of the New Empire, also feel her loss most keenly. Ah, to have an empty spot where her fluffy yet regale self used to sit or curl or drape in the royal family portraits. To notice how our Lord Knight Protector Ren’s dark coats are no longer dusted by fine orange hair. And to see our brave Emperor, laboring diligently for his people despite his loss. Oh how it tears at all our hearts.

\- Snippets of an Editorial from Good Morning New Empire

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office***

Mitaka quickly closed the gossip editorial on his work monitor, and shrank a little bit lower on his chair sheepishly.

Emperor Hux, with a straight back, crisp uniform, streaks of premature grey gracing his temples, and a cup of strong caf in one hand, nodded good morning at his aid, and marched into his office, not a hint of unseemly expression to be seen on his stern and dignified face.

Another typical day for the Emperor hard at work.

**  


***The Celanon system - Pravaat and Co Ltd.’s Annual Charity Dinner***

“President Pravaat, though I give compliments sparingly, I must say you have outdone yourself this time,” said Governor Brojthe to the charity party’s host.

The host in question, President Pravaat of Pravaat and Co Ltd., a multi-planetary company with its humble beginnings in textiles and current holdings in everything from children’s toys to military supplies, smiled winningly at the Governor and raised his drink for a toast. “Why Your Honor, you flatter me. This party should really be credited to the joint efforts of my talented and trusty staff.”

Governor Brojthe took a swig of his own drink and scoffed, “Mr. Pravaat, you know I care very little for simple pomp and glitz. I was referring to your company’s most recent work for the New Empire. Fine uniforms you have provided for our men. A good balance between functionality and fashion for the holos and posters aimed at the masses, unlike the frippery some other suppliers have tried to pass as military clothes. Drooling clawbirds salivating after government funds and little else the lot of them.”

President Pravaat’s smile only got wider. “Oh Your Honor, you know we aim to provide nothing but the best for the soldiers of our dear Empire. The addition of fashion was but my own selfish indulgence. The art student in me never really left, even after all those years in this corporate seat.”

“An art student?” Questioned Brojthe.

“Yes, the Art Academy on Coruscant. But my family had long made our fortunes under the grace of the Galactic Empire. And I go where the New Empire needs me. Never quite put down the brush though.” The man looked down at his dominant hand, holding a half emptied glass of wine instead of a brush now, and his tone turned both nostalgic and proud, “I was fortunate enough to be commissioned for one of the royal portraits, two years after the coronation of Emperor Hux. It hangs in the Imperial Capital’s sixth district library today, the one with the cat sitting in our Emperor’s lap.”

“Ah that orange cat.”

“Yes the poor dear.”

Here both men paused awkwardly, and leaned in close to each other.

Governor Brojthe, ever a more straightforward soul, coughed and led with his blunt question, “I was never one for currying favors, the way politicians, and no offense, you businessmen do, but there’s been talks, that the governors and officers and industry men around the Imperial Core Cluster worlds are looking for cats the exact perfect shade of orange?”

“Yes. Why indeed yes. Why Governor, are you…?” Pravaat leaned even closer and lowered his voice, sensing an opportunity for future local government contracts and endorsements.

“President Pravaat, as you have seen that cat yourself, painted it you say. Do you, perhaps, know what shade of orange it was? These holo displays and flat films, they never quite do real life justice, or so they say.”

**  


***Star Destroyer, Vengeance***

“But Sir, are we really sending a mouser cat to the Capital? It is not even orange.” Captain Stele looked dubiously at the pet carrier that was supposed to ship out with their next planetary touch down.

Admiral Mordon simply nodded his assent. “Our chief mouser had quite the litter this year, more than enough to cover the vacancies in our own fleet. Sending one off to do its duties in the Capital won’t be amiss.”

“But Admiral, I thought you said Emperor Hux was above sentimentalities and non-receptive to bribery.”

“Ah, but sometimes, dear Captain, even the most hardened of us can be allowed a moment of sentiment. This silly old man and his potted plants, for one. And our Khanjali’s kittens always grew to be exemplary mousers. I am sure Hux could find good employment for this little one.” Mordon smiled down at the napping kitten, and looked at his protégé and body guard with a touch of soft fondness.

**  


***The Planet ⊘ ⊙ ⊚ ⊛ ⊜***

“Are you saying one of the human Emperor’s offspring has passed, Ambassador ⊦ ⊧ ⊨?” Lord ⊞ ⊟ ⊠ ⊡ leaned down from her throne, and clicked her mandibles at the Ambassador. 

“Well,” ⊦ ⊧ ⊨ wringed his secondary forelimbs, his compound eyes somehow managing to convey a sense of uncertainty. “We are not sure, my Lord. But they do share such colorations. And supposed there were great mourning amongst the people. And I’ve heard. Mind me, only heard, but not confirmed...”

“Go on,” the Lord urged.

“I have heard, that many of the lords and ladies subordinate to the human Emperor are looking for a surrogate in the Lady Millicent’s likeness, to sooth the Emperor’s sorrows.”

“ ⊦ ⊧ ⊨! You insolent! You insinuate that I, the great ⊞ ⊟ ⊠ ⊡, is subordinate to this so-called human Emperor!” Lord ⊞ ⊟ ⊠ ⊡ roared.

“No, no my Lord!”

“Drones, drag this fool to the nutrient pit. I want him out of my sight!”

“NO, not the nutrient pit my Lord!” But alas, the Ambassador’s screams and pleas were ignored by the hard-shelled guards.

Upon the throne, ⊞ ⊟ ⊠ ⊡ recalled the flashes of fire from the First Order’s great ventral cannons, and wondered if they should perhaps look into finding a mammal in the Lady Millicent’s likeness too, just in case.

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office***

Chief Secretary Mitaka looked down at the padded basket on his desk, and pinched the bridged of his nose.

“Meow?” asked the tiny whiskered creature in the basket.

At least it wasn’t a pissed off Loth-cat this time. Whoever started the rumor of how the Emperor is looking for a replacement cat, Mitaka would find them, yes find them and express his great displeasure. Give them a stern dressing down. Oh yes he would.

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, Foot of Capital Hill, Tarkin Memorial Park***

The sun was warm, the breeze was sweet, and the Park was abuzz with families out to enjoy another beautiful day in the Capital.

It would have been a perfect day too, except…

“Achoo!” Thanisson sneezed for the tenth time since he’d stepped outside that day. He glared from his spot on the park bench at yet another cat strolling leisurely past, probably shedding all the way.

‘The Emperor personally approved this reallocation and utilization of surplus resources,’ he said. 

‘It would give the kittens something to do,’ he said.

‘The children and families will love it,’ he said.

And here Thanisson thought he’d be free of these mangy fur balls with his honorable discharge from the Finalizer, after sustaining severe injuries from a certain disastrous prisoner escape. Kriffing Mitaka and his kriffing ideas.

**  


***Some Space Port Somewhere in the New Empire***

The satellite station master scratched his itchy bum, then his large red nose, and squinted at the animal care instruction package in his hand. Raising his head, he then gave the same squint to the two Stormtroopers invading his office, “Mouser cats?” 

“Yes. Our Emperor Hux, in his wisdom and benevolence, has seen fit to redistribute these mouser cats to all First Order artificial satellites, and all military and government ships capable of supporting populations of 1,000 and above for the purpose of pest elimination. Studies have shown biological pest control, when applied properly, is superior to its chemical and mechanical counterparts,” droned Stormtrooper GN-2100.

“And no need to worry about an overpopulation of cats, Sir. All of our specimens have been neutered and spayed. Please just sign here, here, and here,” Stormtrooper GN-3100 flicked through the holopad screens, and circled the dotted lines with speed and efficiency born of practice. He then took out a pet carrier, and plucked it down on the bewildered station master’s desk with a well-practiced “Thank you Sir”.

GN-2100 and 3100 sighed behind their masks, as the station master’s rather happy looking young son waved them off. They signed up with the army to see worlds, spread the glory of the Empire, and fight Resistance scum, not to be cat couriers!

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office***

Chief Secretary Mitaka peeled the clingy little tabby carefully off his lap, lamenting the inevitable loss of yet another perfectly good pair of pants, and gave the man standing in front of his desk an exasperated look, “Surely not you too, High Colonel Kaplan. As you can see with your own eyes, we have somewhat of a surplus in cats right now for a government office.”

Colonel Kaplan coughed and hefted the pet carrier onto the Chief Secretary’s desk, to show it was empty. “Ah, no, Chief Secretary. I am actually here on behalf of my daughters, to see if we might be allowed to adopt one or two of the younger kittens.”

“Oh Force please do!”

**  


***Some Space Port Somewhere Else on the Edge of the New Empire***

“What the?” Finn stared at the opened cargo ship, and was at a loss for words.

“Are you serious? Cats? This entire Imperial supply shipment consists of nothing but cats and cat care supplies? Are you sure you are not a decoy to the real payload?” Rey gave the bound Stormtrooper prostrate at her feet a questioning look. Maybe the First Order had finally lost it. 

The Stormtrooper shrank back into herself and whimpered a little bit. 

Finn gave her a somewhat sympathetic look, and held out a hand in peace, “Don’t worry, we are not going to kill or torture you. The Resistance does things differently.”

The Trooper, slightly more reassured by Finn’s open, honest face, scrounged up some courage to beg, “Please, now that you know I am shipping nothing but cats, could I please have them back and be sent on my way? My Captain would have my hide once he finds out I’ve lost the cats half way.”

“We can’t really just let you go,” said Jessika with a slight frown.

“Yeah who knows what the First Order has in store for these poor creatures?” Finn frowned too, remembering the science experiments his old bunkmates used to whisper of.

The Trooper gave a dejected sigh and hung her head, only to raise it again in surprise and hope at the next words from the Resistance fighter with the open face.

“Hey, don’t look so upset. Your Captain doesn’t have to find out right? Say, what unit are you from? I was in the FN batch myself, yet look at me now.”

“Nyaaaan,” said one of the cats from its cage.

**  


***Star Destroyer, The Finalizer** *

Some had suggested making the ship into a show piece, a museum, to showcase the glory of their Emperor.

Others had petitioned to make the ship into their beloved Emperor’s personal transport. After all, it was his ship, was it not? And there could be no worthier man than Emperor Hux to have a dedicated grand warship as his ferry between the stars.

The ship neither became a museum nor a personal vessel for show. Amongst the stars it remained, patrolling New Empire territories faithfully, seeing batches of First Order officers, soldiers, and support staff come and go.

**

“Gods Matt! Stop screaming at it. Now it’s never going to come out, and we’ll probably have to disassemble this entire wall panel to fish out its corpse! And since this cat was sent from the Capital by some fancy royal decree, where do you think we would be when upper management finds it missing?” A harried looking female senior technician poked at her team member half laying down on the floor.

“It bit me! And could you please stop screaming at me, Leslie? You are stressing me out. You are stressing the cat out. Why don’t you do this yourself? I can’t reach that far. My arm is too shredded to fit this stupid hole.” The muscular man sat up, cradling his bleeding hand.

“Well if you hadn’t thrown a wrench near it, it wouldn’t have bolted right into the service panel!” Leslie was in no hurry to volunteer herself for cat-extraction. She’s had to fix enough of Matt’s screw ups as is.

“Well excuse me if I didn’t see the little beast!” Matt puffed and huffed and flushed angry red all the way down to his uniform collars. Had he had another wrench at hand, he would have thrown that one too at this point.

Right before a real screaming match could break out, a mousey voice drifted from behind both radar technicians, “…ah, excuse me, maybe I could give it a try?”

Matt and Leslie whipped their heads around, and realized there was a lanky young man with lanky red hair standing behind them. Probably for a while too. The man swayed a little bit on his feet, bit his lips, and pulled his oversized old cardigan tighter around non-existent shoulders.

The man stuck out a hand and waved hesitantly, “Umm, hi, I’m Techie, from IT.”

Leslie nodded at the man, “Leslie.” She then jerked her chin at Matt, “And this is Matt. So, Techie, that’s like a nickname right? Thanks for offering to help, but what are you going to do? Crawl in after the cat? You are not That skinny.”

Techie shook his head, getting a strand of greasy hair into his mechanical eyes. He blew on the hair, and fished out a tin can from his cardigan pocket. He picked at the lid with pale, chipped fingernails, and with some effort, managed to pry it open.

It was a small can of tuna.

**

The cat was safely extracted. It even allowed Techie to pick it up.

Techie wasn’t buff (like Matt’s personal idol, the great Lord Kylo Ren), or stunningly handsome (like Lord Kylo Ren), or confident and powerful and brave (like Lord Kylo Ren), but somehow Matt couldn’t tear his eyes away from Techie’s soft smile and blushing face, as Leslie thumped the young man on the back for a job well-done, and the cat licked his rescuer’s tuna smelling fingers.

Matt was in love.

**  


***The Celanon system – A Retirement Home***

Despite the many scientific and medical advancements of the many iterations of Empires and Republics, old age remained a steady constant near the natural end of every life. For the lucky ones, it simply sent them along to that great world beyond in their sleep. For the unlucky rest, sometimes it took away various usages of their bodies, sometimes it took away minds.

**

“Jeralltdine, oh Jeralltdine, you have come to visit your poor old father.” The sad shrunken figure of a man confined to bed reached out one skeletal arm at his visitor.

Governor Brojthe sighed, “Father, it’s me. Sister is not here anymore. The Resistance...”

The old man shook his head with some effort. “No, what nonsense! My Jeralltdine would never be done in by those wretched vermin. Why you are here now, standing right before me.”

“Your Honor, maybe I should… take my leave?” President Pravaat cursed under his breath as he hung back at the door. This was fastly becoming uncomfortable. It was no small secret Governor Jeraldt Brojthe hated his sister, who outshone him in every way, and remained perfect and heroic even in death. Who knew ex-System Sub-Commander Brojthe Sr. would choose today of all days to be delirious? Oh why did he make small talk with the Governor? Why did he even visit this facility for PR and tax deductible donations today? 

Governor Brojthe also cursed inwardly. Why did he make small talk with Pravaat today? Now the industry man knows about his family embarrassment, his biased, feeble minded father. Even now the industry titan, whom he had hoped to court for political donations, was trying to shuffle away in discomfort.

Before Pravaat could extract himself, Brojthe Sr. let out a glad cry, “Why Jeralltdine, who is this handsome gentleman accompanying you today? Someone special? Why have you not introduced us?”

Pravaat froze awkwardly, while the Governor flushed blotchy red in embarrassment.

Brojthe Sr. would have rattled on more, likely about grandchildren, except he was interrupted by a great orange cat. The cat slid from between Pravaat’s legs, brushed by the Governor, left behind a dusting of fine hair, and jumped light of foot onto the sick bed. Its tag glinted in the sun light, proudly stating its station as a therapy cat of Celanon City Luxury Retirement Livings. The creature nuzzled and purred at the elder Brojthe, who became completely distracted by his delightful feline friend, and forgot all about his human visitors.

**

“Mr. Pravaat.” Governor Brojthe stared at the cat on his father’s lap, as if seeing a ghost.

“Yes, Your Honor?” President Pravaat answered in a quiet voice. He could not quite tear his eyes away from the cat either.

Governor Brojthe pointed at the cat with a shaking finger. “Mr. Pravaat, does that cat look, look familiar to you?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” The President swallowed audibly, and the Governor broke out in a cold sweat.

Had their attempt at flattery backfired? To have the very cat they’d gifted the Emperor returned like this? To the very nursing home that the elder Brojthe was housed in? The very nursing home that Pravaat and Co Ltd. publicly sponsored?

Was this a warning from the Emperor on his less than clean fund raising practices? The Governor thought.

Was this a cautioning against mixing private interests with public politics? The President shivered.

That far reaching, ever alert, and ever vigilant Emperor, who has sworn to erase all the ills and corruption that had plagued the old Empires. How foolish they were to think they could hide their dealings from his watchful eyes. 

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The Office***

“Can’t we keep at least one? Come on now Hux, you know you want to.” Kylo held the small squirming body right in Hux’s face. “This one isn’t even supposed to shed that much.”

“For the last time Ren, no.” Hux looked away from the yellow unblinking eyes of the little beast, and switched to glare at the large and watery brown eyes of his cohabitant. “I do not know where people got the idea that I am weeping at the loss of a useful mouser, even if I did allow her onto my lap at one point or another. Perhaps they are mocking me. No, I am sure some of my enemies are definitely mocking me, taunting me with that they thought is a weakness,” the Emperor hissed, much like a displeased cat.

Oblivious to Hux’s souring mood, Kylo thrust the little cat at Hux again. “But Hux! Look at her, look at her sleek black fur and pink little toe pads. I am sure Nightsister would be a good addition to the house.”

“Nightsister? Really Ren? You named it? What kind of stupid name… Never mind that, aren’t you allergic?” Hux rubbed his temples and felt more grey hair coming in.

“I don’t recall your concerns about my health when Millicent peed in my helmet! And Nightsister is supposed to be hypoallergenic!”

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The House, Master Bedroom***

“Was Millie really just a useful mouser to you?” Kylo Ren poked his bedmate in the side with a large blunt finger.

Hux turned around in the sheets, irritation clearly upon his features. “What is it now Ren?”

“I thought you liked her? Did you stop caring the moment she died, and ceased being useful? She was a good mouser, all the way until the very end,” Ren pouted from his side of the bed.

“Kylo. It was a cat. It died. Now get over it. Oh for Kriff’s sake, are you seriously drawing parallels between yourself and a cat in you over-dramatic head now? Be assured then Lord Knight Protector, you are much more valuable to the Empire than a mouser, and much more difficult to replace. Why are you even agonizing over this? Aren’t you supposed to be a mind-reader?” Hux rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

But you are always so distant and aloof, the First Order, and now the Empire the greatest of your loves. You whose strengths lie in your science and conviction, your plots and manipulations. You whose actions are rarely without secondary goals. Even with the Force, I could never tell if you simply found me a useful mouser of Resistance vermin or something more, even if you did save me from Snoke’s grasp and let me lay my head upon your lap.

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The House, Sitting Room***

“Papa, I want to keep her. May I? May I may I may I pleeeeeaaase?” The little girl pouted up at her father, a little black cat held in her arms.

“But Gwendolyn, my darling, you are only home for the summer and holidays. Papa has already sent cats to the Junior Academy. You can see them there.” Hux bent down and smoothed the wayward ringlets on the girl’s head.

“Well, Nightsister won’t just be for me. She would be for you too. You were upset when Millie passed away. You let Daddy bury her, and only put all her things in storage instead of throwing them away. You loved Millie, not in the same way you love me and Daddy, but you loved her very much. I am sure you will love Nightsister too!” The girl who would one day be Emperor said with the observant eyes of her donor father, and the assured confidence and frank candor of her donor mother. 

**  


***Imperial Core Cluster, Imperial Capital, The House***

“Well, at least Nightsister looks like an independent soul. Maybe she will thrive despite your clumsy care,” Hux said to Kylo, his words mocking, but his tone good humored. 

Kylo smiled, rolled over Hux, and smothered the slighter man with a most affectionate hug between his well-toned arms. 

**

Morning dew drops gleamed like crystals on verdant leaves, not yet touched by the rising sun. The ipomoeas were still in full bloom. Round flowers in rich purples and pale pink mixed with porcelain white, dotting the vines that crawled up the lattice over the wooden porch (drafted by the Emperor, and hand crafted by his Knight, along with the swing and playset across the yard).

Inside the modest house, the humans were still fast asleep. The men, encircled by each other, troubled by those strange dreams before waking, be they of guilt, horror, or past failures, we cannot tell. The girl, surrounded by stuffed animals and starship models, her angelic looks enhanced by a halo of strawberry blonde hair, her dreams filled with love and eagerness and hope for the future, as certain as her faint smile.

The lone non-human occupant of the house, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. Her soft blanket piled basket sat empty, her litterbox already used. But on the steps of the porch, lined up head to tail as if in both offering and gloating, lay small mammals and native song birds of every color, stiff and mutilated in two neat little rows.

**  


***A Remote Corner of the Galaxy Far, Far Away***

In another corner of this galaxy far, far away, Stormtroopers GN-2100 and GN-3100 finally got to see the action they were hoping for. Their blaster fires mowed down captured Resistance Soldiers and native alien insurgents alike, who stared back at their executioners bloodied yet still defiant, until they fell where they stood, their bodies lining up in two gruesome rows.

**** The End Meow****


End file.
